


A Noble Heartthrob

by NocturnalMe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Arguments, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth (IMPLIED), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ferdinand's POV, First Kiss, Hubert's POV, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor spoilers in Chapter 2, Misunderstandings, Pining, Unrequited Love?, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 05:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20286454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnalMe/pseuds/NocturnalMe
Summary: “I-” she started, then bit the inside of her cheek. “I thought you- you hated him.” she spoke her thoughts out loud in the end, levelling him with a skeptical gaze.Different emotions ran across Hubert’s features then, though the guy didn’t seem willing to answer any time soon.In fact, it took some painfully long seconds before Byleth’s curiosity finally could find peace.“I do.” Hubert folded his arms on his chest, his voice hoarse and his face impassive as ever, but his eyes betrayed him, those eyes that could instill dread in the bravest soldiers, those very same eyes now softened somehow, as if the mere thought of von Aegir’s eldest son was enough to breach his defenses and let his guard down even only for a while.





	1. Why can't I take you off my mind?

**Author's Note:**

> Hiee everyone!! ❤️❤️ I'm new to this fandom as a writer jfkjdsk I wanted to write about these two because I love their dynamic and still think that We Could've Had It All™.
> 
> Please note that this chapter takes place somewhere after their conversation for B support.
> 
> Last but not least, my thanks go to [@HelAuditore](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HelAuditore) because she always saves my English!!!

The impending war weighed upon the Black Eagles’ shoulders, especially on their leader’s, but that day was rather calm, despite the back and forth of soldiers around the buildings that formed the Garreg Mach, or what remained of the monastery nowadays.

Doing her usual parade lap, Byleth was walking down the courtyard next to the Knight’s Hall, coming from the stables, when something, or better _someone_ caught her attention.

Hubert was sitting in furthest corner at the edge of the colonnade that leaded into the Reception Hall, darkness surrounded him as a tree hid him with its thick trunk and bushes with their flourishing branches, a bored look scrunched up his grim features as he stared in front of himself and not at the notebook opened on his lap.

“He fully knows there’s a place where he can practise, and yet he shows off here. Pathetic.” Byleth heard him murmur under his breath before that creepy chuckle of his left his lips writhed in a sneer.

Driven by a sudden curiosity, Byleth walked over to him and, as soon as she was close, leant next to his left ear to ask “What are you doing, Hubert?”.

A shiver shook the imperial tactician’s body, his back stiffened at once as he swung his head around so quickly he felt dizzy for a moment.

“Oh, it’s you, Professor.” he sighed in what sounded much like relief to Byleth, rolling his eyes. Then, as if he’d only just remembered what good manners were, he greeted her with a stern bow of his head, although he didn’t spare her a suspicious glance for the intrusion. 

Hubert didn’t hear her coming? That was very strange of him.

The corners of Byleth’s mouth quirked up in a amused grin.

“Yeah, Hubert. It’s just me.” she reassured him with a careful wave of her hand. “I’ve asked you what are you doing here.” she repeated while sitting down by his side.

Hubert quickly darted his gaze back to where he had been staring previously, then huffed annoyed at the question.

“Doing research.” he replied simply, making more space between them by scooting some inches away from the young woman.

“Here?” Byleth blinked confused, before adding “What kind of research are you… doing, exactly?” her eyebrows met in a frown.

“For Lady Edelgard, of course.” he drew out a vexed breath as if that brief conversation sucked his energies dry, energies that he would have rather spent in other activities.

Byleth had always had the feeling that Hubert didn’t like her, he.. _tolerated_ her presence just because Edelgard happened to enjoy her company, so her faithful servant had to accept that fact and swallowed his jabs reserved for his former professor, no matter how hard it was for him at times.

Actually, she was still studying that oddly interesting guy, even after all the months she stayed at the Officers Academy. But she was glad that nothing had changed after her momentary departure. She had found herself missing all her students, even Hubert, with his dark humor and beady eyes.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t initially noticed Hubert hadn’t answered her question, so she soldiered on and tried her luck one more time, out of spite or pure curiosity she couldn’t tell by now.

“Not what I’ve meant, Hubert.” she scolded him with a small smile curving up her lips.

She saw Hubert’s fingers wrapped around the charcoal twitch as well as his left eye, and bit down her bottom lip to suppress a chuckle.

“Do you need something in particular from me, Professor?” he immediately cut every possible response with a strict “Because I’m very busy, as you can see.”.

He shifted his position, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Right.” her voice quivered a bit from the effort of not bursting out laughing at him. “But I think-” she took a deep breath, “I think Ferdinand’s nose is a little softer on the tip”.

An audible gasp left Hubert’s lips at the accusation her words implied, and turned to glare daggers at her, closing the notebook in a rush.

“It’s rude to pry in other people’s properties, I thought someone like you would have known that.“ he commented, his voice laced with poison, as he acknowledged only in that moment how much closer his professor was now, enough to take a good look at his notebook, at least.

Before Byleth could reply properly, a noise echoed around the empty yard. 

Empty except for one person.

She immediately looked towards the source of that loud moan of strain and was surprised to find Ferdinand in the middle of it, bare chested although the clouds in the sky threatened rain, his hair gathered up in a messy bun on his head, some stray locks framing his face crumpled in concentration as he gripped hard on a lance he was using for training.

Sweat ran down his regal neck and glistened under the weak light of the sun, his cheeks wearing a scarlet shade that highlighted the golden amber of his eyes.

Muscles bulging out from tightening around the wooden shaft, his abdomen taut.

Byleth gaped for a moment at that sight, not because it elicited some kind of inner reaction out of her, but because the pieces of the puzzle were finally clicking in the right place.

One, two, three seconds passed before her mouth literally slacked open as soon as realization washed over her like cold water.

She ever-so-slowly turned her head, her eyes round and wide as she looked at the guy next to her who was watching very intently the scene displayed before his eyes that shone of a wicked gleam.

And his face was literally burning, from his chin to the very tips of his ears, of shame, embarrassment or other feelings Byleth was too stunned at the moment to guess which.

That was the last straw.

Byleth could feel the imminent, roaring laugh swelling her lungs and wanting to escape from her throat.

But before she could loosen up for the very first time since she woke up from her five years nap, or perhaps since forever, before she could burst into a cackling laughter, Hubert abruptly stood up, grabbed her by an arm, clapped a hand hard on her mouth and dragged her behind the nearest pillar, the notebook and the charcoal falling on the floor in the process.

All that happened so quickly that Ferdinand didn’t have enough time to find out what caused that sudden hustle, stopping in his movements to look around himself quizzically.

Pinning Byleth against the stone surface, Hubert looked her dead in the eyes, his hand pressing harder on her trembling lips. 

Tears gathered on her eyelashes that she flickered once, twice as she stared up to her student.

“I’ll let you go only if you assure me you can control your childish instincts.” he hushed through gritted teeth. He looked intimidating even though he was still blushing.

Hubert was _blushing_. Byleth’s mind couldn't wrap around that fact.

“Are you able to control yourself, Professor?”

A single nod.

Then, she breathed in and out for a few moments through her nose before getting a grip, the hilarity that had possessed her earlier now fading away.

When Hubert was sure enough that she wouldn’t have started laughing again, he let Byleth go and cleared his throat lowly, hiding himself behind a clenched fist.

An awkward silence lingered between them afterwards.

The imperial tactician then carded his fingers through the dark tuft in front of his eye, before shaking his head and straightening his back up. 

“So, you can laugh, Professor. Good for you.” he offered in his poised tone, although Byleth could hear his distress for being caught in what she presumed was one of his secrets.

She had been a professor. No, she was _still_ a professor, her former students saw a guide in her, they looked upon her as a leader. And what did she just do? Laugh at one of them because he felt human emotions such as infatuation? __

_ __ _

_ __ _

She flinched a bit and briefly lowered her eyes, then met his gaze again, guilt showing now all over her face.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Hubert, I didn’t mean to make fun of you.“ she uttered out in the most honest voice, her shoulders slumping down as she leant back against the pillar.

“You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone, especially Lady Edelgard.” Byleth could swear she saw terror shadowing his face for a split second at the mention of their mutual friend, “Or I’ll have to cut your tongue off with my bare hands, Professor.” the smile that he was wearing sent chills to her guts, her throat closing up as he punctuated the epithet with a squint of his bright but gloomy eyes.

She swallowed around the lump that didn’t let her speak, and nodded again in understanding.

She didn’t want to face his true anger, not since she well knew what he was capable of with his magic. 

“I-” she started, then bit the inside of her cheek. “I thought you- you hated him.” she spoke her thoughts out loud in the end, levelling him with a skeptical gaze.

Different emotions ran across Hubert’s features then, though the guy didn’t seem willing to answer any time soon.

In fact, it took some painfully long seconds before Byleth’s curiosity finally could find peace.

“I do.” Hubert folded his arms on his chest, his voice hoarse and his face impassive as ever, but his eyes betrayed him, those eyes that could instill dread in the bravest soldiers, those very same eyes now softened somehow, as if the mere thought of von Aegir’s eldest son was enough to breach his defenses and let his guard down even only for a while.

His professor cocked an eyebrow at him, her mouth twisting in a displeased grimace at that obvious lie.

“You hate him so much you have a notebook full of drawings of him?” she asked while tilting her head to the side.

Against her best intentions to help him out and confront his feelings, those words just worsened her already precarious position.

Hubert was once again in her personal space, threatening his professor by pointing a finger at her face. 

“I’ve warned you to shut up-”.

“Why don’t you ask him out?” 

That simple suggestion definitely struck some deeper chords within the imperial tactician because he reared back, his eyes widened then immediately narrowed in two slits filled with venom, even if Byleth noticed his ears turning pink again.

His mouth was a thin line, but the muscles of his neck grew tense and his shoulders were tighter than before.

The air around them heaved with electricity, like a storm coming to wipe everything in its wake. 

She could feel anticipation tickle under her skin.

Then Hubert grunted, a guttural noise that quickly faded into an actual yet humorless laugh, that sinister sound that made the hairs on the back of Byleth’s neck stand on end every time, despite having heard it more than once by now.

“I should do what?” he asked as laughters still shook his words. “You’re ridiculous.” he spat then as he tossed his head to the side, breaking the staring contest they had previously engaged.

Byleth couldn't understand why he was being so obtuse when it was as clear as a summer morning that he felt something for Ferdinand, ‘research’ bullshit aside. 

“Edelgard doesn’t need someone who can’t even admit his feeling towards a fellow companion at her side.” she spoke loud and clear now, trying to knock some sense into that thick skull of his. 

Apparently, that single statement was the key to win the ongoing dispute because the broody man fell silent, looking at Byleth bewildered by the frankness of her words.

But then Hubert did something she didn’t expect.

He just sighed, as if resigned of his evident defeat against his professor’s determination, then turned his back to her.

“I should go back to Lady Edelgard now.” he announced in a harsh tone, but something was off to Byleth, something didn’t seem right, though she couldn’t say _what_ exactly.

And with that, Hubert took his leave, Byleth still standing by the pillar.

She followed him with her eyes until he disappeared completely out of her sight.

Shaking hopelessly her head, she resumed her strolling, trying to not think about her former student’s love life and miserably failing. 

She wanted to speak about what had happened with Edelgard. Even though she acted like she didn’t care about that kind of frivolous arguments, in that case Hubert was involved, her servant, but most importantly, her best friend. 

She couldn’t let it slide that easily, but, for the sake of Hubert’s privacy, ultimately decided to say nothing to her, the imperial tactician’s words still ringing in her ears eased her final decision.

Meanwhile, Hubert had been halfway to his room when suddenly a thought crossed his mind.

If he still had his eyebrows they would surely have shot up to his hairline.

He immediately turned tail and started walking straight back to the yard, his pace fast enough to reach the place in a short time but not too hurried to raise suspects.

Once there, he went back to where he had been sitting to retrieve his notebook.

But the worst of fears quickly clutched at his stomach when he realized that his precious collection of research was nowhere to be found.


	2. With you I've never felt more alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with another chapter!! ;)))  
I was not sure wheter let it take place before or after their conversation for A support, but then I watched it aaand I decided against it. So this chapter it's still after support B. Also, it's longer than the last one since I had to give some context before continuing with the plot. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it because it's from Ferdinand's pov 👀 #piningbitchesonly

Ferdinand von Aegir was the eldest son of his family, the heir of prime minister title, one of the closest figures to the Emperor. 

All his life he had been raised to fulfill that role, to be the guide the future Emperor needed, to be useful to his country.

Some days had been harder than others, in those same days he had struggled to remember why he had been doing it, why his parents had been so tough on him, but he had always reminded himself that it would have been worth it in the end. The pain, the efforts, the bitter pills, everything was meaningless before the cause he would have served when the time would have been right. 

He had been raised to be ready for that moment.

But nobody had prepared him for the worst spell he could have fallen under. 

No books, no training sessions, no theoretical lessons would have been able to teach him how to deal with the feelings he bore in his heart.

Destiny was certainly a sadist because the person who had been crowding his thoughts for years now was no less than Hubert von Vestra.

Ferdinand couldn’t remember when or how it happened exactly. It had been a long time ago, for sure. 

Hubert and he had known each other since they were kids, mostly because of political reasons, but Ferdinand had been immediately struck by his presence. The first thing he had noticed about him were his eyes, two bright topazes that hid a broody, cold personality, he would have learnt later.

The feeling that shook him to his very core when their gazes had met the first time never left him since then. Whenever Hubert looked at him with those pale hues, that same feeling crawled insidiously within his heart and hurt.

Because loving a person who hated you hurt so fucking bad.

Ferdinand could tell how insufferable and annoying Hubert considered him. The imperial tactician had never spared him sharp glares nor spiteful comments, he had been underestimating his person from the beginning, from the first political conference they both attended to as young teenagers. And the von Aegir’s heir couldn’t understand why Hubert acted that way, not when they barely talked to one another. 

His heart ached, yet he hadn't let his face show his true emotions, not even once. He just put his best smile on, like his parents had always told him to, and accepted the inevitable, even though he bled at each pin that poked that relentless tangle of veins and repressed love.

His inner turmoil only worsened when he realized, day after day, how closer Hubert and Edelgard actually were. The bond that united the two wasn’t just a formal contract between regal family and servants, it went beyond that. And Ferdinand could see it from the way they behaved towards each other. There was fondness in the gestures they shared, there was affection in the looks Hubert reserved for her and her only, there was complicity in the path they both had decided to follow, walking together side by side. 

And what Ferdinand could do except for observing from a careful distance? 

He tried to befriend Edelgard and Hubert, he tried so hard, if not for selfish purposes, for the sake of the political stability, although none of his attempts had succeeded throughout the years.

The more he met failure, the more another awful feeling clutched at his chest, tighter and tighter, feeding the growing resentment he felt towards Edelgard, a force that inevitably crashed against the wave of guiltiness that coiled at the pit of his stomach for mulling over something as ridiculous as jealousy. 

Ferdinand knew it was stupid, that it was a lost cause, a war he couldn’t have possibly won. Edelgard was a star high in the sky, too far away to reach, when he was just a little ant that life would have squashed under its weight sooner or later, as Hubert once had the pleasure to point out for him.

Ferdinand knew it was stupid because he should have been one of Edelgard’s most trustworthy advisors, and yet he was failing both his family’s name and his country. 

Years passed eventually and, despite people insulting him for his father’s crimes, despite Hubert diminishing his work to become the future prime minister the Empire much required, he kept going further, eyes straight ahead, wearing his brightest smile, trying to not lose his natural optimism. 

He kept going further and made peace with his irremediable situation, a heartache he couldn’t get rid of while all the Empire eyes were on him, waiting for his first misstep.

He kept going further, wanting to redeem his family’s reputation that had been stained by his father’s immoral acts, wanting to show he was better than that sleazy old man, wanting to make him pay for what he had done, seeking revenge for all the people he hurt with his actions. 

He kept going further, training, wearing both his brain and body out, sharpening up, entering the Officer Academy with a single purpose: outdoing Edelgard in everything. 

Ashamed of that very feeling, he lied to the rational part of his brain that knew it was just a facade, trying to hide his real intentions, trying to bury the truth under a river of filth - another unsolicited reminder from Hubert that had been spat right in his face during one of their arguments at the academy. 

He had set that goal in his mind just to be the perfect advisor for the next Emperor, he told himself again and again, and definitely not to have the slightest chance to win Hubert’s attention. 

A hopeless fool, that’s what he was.

The year he spent at the Officer Academy had been arduous, mainly because he was left alone among people who looked up and down at him like he was as much scum as his father. 

The pressure of those inquisitive gazes was unbearable yet he had to resist, he couldn’t let his mental weakness be his final judge.

But sometimes even his purpose took a back seat before the disdain Hubert never stopped to profess for him, both publicly and privately. His mask cracked bit by bit while his heart sank deeper and deeper in an endless hole.

Their relationship not only hadn’t got better in the meantime, but also went from bad to worse the more they had to deal with each other. However, Ferdinand had always tried to reach out to him, always tried to make a connection, never once permitted his emotions to interfere with his duty as Imperial advisor and teammate. When they were on the battlefield, the young von Aegir would have had Hubert’s back, no matter how many times the latter had sneered at him, saying to stay back, saying he hadn’t been in need of his help. He was obviously of a different opinion, and Ferdinand never actually pushed too far, understanding when to walk away.

All of the sudden, many events happened too fast to process them all properly: first Edelgard becoming the new Emperor, then the battle against Rhea and immediately after Professor Byleth’s apparent death, a series of unfortunate events that led straight to the declaration of war that shook the whole continent of Fódlan.

Every politically involved house had wished for the situation to not go that far, but they should have seen it coming since Edelgard had always declared her suspicions about Rhea and her fishy behaviour, she had despised the Archbishop all along and Ferdinand couldn’t disagree with her on that point. 

The Church held too much power for its own good, and Ferdinand would have followed Edelgard in her bloody crusade regardless.

And with the bloody crusade begun, another five years split by. The squad was still together and yet it seemed like something was missing, or better _someone_. Their professor’s premature departure left a horrible hole in the group, but especially in their hearts. Who had been hurt the most was surely Edelgard, and Ferdinand had felt even guiltier for the jealousy that viciously clawed at his core. 

From that moment, Edelgard had been wearing the same look in the eyes Ferdinand wore himself every time Hubert jabbed him in the middle of his chest with his venomous words. A lost, sad look. And upon that realization, he quickly started to understand many, _many_ things. The resentment he had been feeling for the young woman dissipated a bit, leaving some space for a sense of compassion, even though he couldn’t hold back the stubborn rivalry that he kept showing at any given time.

From that moment, the Black Eagles had been led by a wounded captain, a captain who had been deprived of her most precious ally and friend, until Byleth came back from death as abruptly as she had entered their life years ago. And Ferdinand couldn’t hide his happiness when he had seen her again in the Entrance Hall of the Garreg Mach. 

Regarding his relationship with Hubert, the two had to stick closer during those five years, but nothing had really changed and Ferdinand didn’t know whether to be relieved or not about that. The funniest aspect for him was that it had taken a fucking war for them to be at least civil towards each other. 

But since Byleth got back to the monastery, the moral of the group lifted exponentially and every member of the Imperial army worked better than before.

As days passed, Ferdinand intensified his training sessions because he needed to be in shape, needed to be ready for what would have come eventually. 

Then, one day Ferdinand caught Hubert giving a soldier the letter he fully knew Edelgard forbade him to send. Surprisingly, the young von Vestra was disobeying a direct order and he couldn’t believe his own eyes and ears. They fought, although not as fervently as they did in the past, and that was an observation Ferdinand found himself ponder over afterwards.

Between battles and classes, they managed to maintain a certain level of balance, even had little talks time to time when the odds favored them. And Ferdinand had the feeling that their relationship had finally improved. Well, Hubert still glared down at him like he was a petulant fly he wanted oh so badly to crush, but if Ferdinand looked closely he could see the tiniest smile ghosting his thin lips when they talked. That was certainly an achievement in his book.

Hubert started to joke with him and not _about_ him. And Ferdinand’s heart was healing, stitch after stitch. 

The young scion couldn't have possibly expected what would have happened some time later while he was training in the courtyard outside the Knight Hall.

In the middle of the lawn, his hands gripped at the spear as he turned and cut through the air with its blade, eyes close to focus better, a line of trees at each of his sides casting slender shadows, the breeze carrying the chilly anticipation of a storm.

He was about to do a perfect twirl followed by a sharp lunge, when he heard something, a sudden movement that made him snap his eyes open to look around himself, trying to understand where that sound came from. 

Everything was still, though. 

His face twisted in a confused scowl that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He resumed his training a few moments later, thinking that his imagination was just playing tricks on him.

Once finished, he retrieved his belongings and headed back to his chambers but, as he walked through the colonnade, his eyes laid on a notebook and a charcoal forgotten on the floor. 

At first he wanted to leave it and keep walking, his muscles aching for some well deserved rest, then his chavalry won over and he picked up both items, studying them with a curious look. 

Who could have lost something like that?

He did a mental overview of his companions to try and find the possible owner, but nothing helpful came to his mind.

Bernadetta, maybe? No, that was unlikely. He knew for sure she preferred open spaces where nobody was around to startle her. 

His brows drew together in a pensive frown as he looked down to the two objects. There was something that he could do to have some clue…

No, he couldn’t, that would have meant violating someone’s privacy and he didn’t want to. 

Suddenly, a weird sensation prickled under his skin, like somehow he _knew_ who was the owner of that notebook.

Even if plain, its cover was made of a fine, dark leather, the edges were worn out by time, and strangely it smelled like… strong coffee?

He gaped a bit upon that realization and vehemently shook his head, then gnawed on his lower lip as his fingers itched.

_Ferdinand, no._

A long intake.

_Ferdinand. No._

His breath was caught in his throat.

_Shitshitshit!_

As air left his lungs in a rush, his heart drumming in his chest, he quickly opened the first page of the notebook just to find it… blank.

He goggled at it for a handful of seconds, his mouth now curved in a disappointed pout, before finally flipping to the next page.

There were a bunch of paragraphs, like notes or something of the sort, written in a messy yet elegant handwriting, although Ferdinand couldn’t make out any sense of it.

That was interesting. 

He decided to dig deeper in that discovery and started leafing through the notebook until he found a drawing. He could tell by the brownish yellow color of the page that it dated back to a long time ago, but what caused him to gape like a fish and his eyes to comically pop out of the orbits was that the person portrayed was… him.

The hand of the mysterious author was a bit rough and clumsy, but that was definitely _him_.

Why the hell would somebody have wanted to draw him?

He squinted at it, thinking he was mistaken, but no, it was definitely him back in the Officer Academy days, when his hair was shorter.

Ferdinand took his time to examine the drawing better, as if just by looking at it he could find the mysterious owner. 

Then, a detail caught his attention.

At one corner of the page there was a name and a smudged date, written in block letters this time.

_‘H. von Vestra‘_

It was like a punch in the guts, like all the oxygen had been knocked out of him in a split second. His throat went dry immediately and cold sweat started rushing down his forehead. 

What did that possibly mean? For what reason would Hubert among all the people have drawn him? 

His vision became blurry, a sudden dizziness clouding his mind as heat crept across his fair cheeks and down his long neck.

Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, he blinked once or twice before regaining some control over his body.

As if realizing just then that he was still out in the open where anybody could have bumped into him while he was prying into Hubert’s private life, he forced his legs to finally move, closing the notebook and pressing it against his throbbing chest.

Ferdinand never ran as fast as he did in that moment, for once in his life trying to avoid any type of social interaction with his companions and common folks. 

When he got to his room, he fastened the door, only after making sure he hadn’t been followed over there.

The key slipping between his sweating fingers due to the growing anxiety, it took him some immensely long seconds before a click reassured him he was safe now, that he could indulge his morbid curiosity in peace.

He took the longest breath, then carefully sat on his bed. He pulled the notebook away from his sternum and stared at it, a mix of emotions swirling at the bottom of his stomach, making him sick, feeling like he was swinging even though he was very much aware he was actually not.

His hands were shaking, he realized as an afterthought. A sense of pure dread clenched at his heart that was pounding faster and faster the more he prolonged that useless waiting.

_Now or never._

His hand moving on its own volition, he opened the notebook and started leafing through it once again.

Page by page his heart skipped a beat, his face aflame and his mouth hanging open in utter astonishment, because at some point notes completely stopped in favor of countless sketches of… Ferdinand. 

Countless sketches of Ferdinand doing the widest range of things from the widest range of perspectives. Some were just little drawings at the edge of the page, his expressions more cartoonish than realistic, others owned the entirety of the gritty surface, more detailed, looking like actual portraits. In one of them, Hubert even bothered to drew each tiny, pale, auburn freckle that studded Ferdinand’s nose and lower eyelids. 

When did the guy have the opportunity to look at him closely enough to bear that particular feature in his mind?

Countless sketches of Ferdinand, a collection that surely showed how better the artist became at drawing that specific subject through the years.

Countless sketches of Ferdinand, each one signed by Hubert.

_Hubert_.

_Hubert_ did all those drawings. That was _Hubert_’s notebook.

The young von Aegir’s mind still couldn't process that piece of information.

Tears stung in the corners of his belwireded eyes while a renewed hope flared up within his heart as violent as ever before. 

So, was that how Hubert truly saw him? It almost seemed like Hubert found him… 

No, that was impossibile. The person who had spent days of their life filling that notebook of illegible notes and drawings of Ferdinand couldn’t be the same Hubert that huffed at him every time he opened his mouth to speak, the same Hubert that always declared he couldn't stand his presence, the same Hubert that mocked him for being so conceited and irritating at any given occasion. 

No, he was reading too much into it because of his crush on the imperial tactician. 

No, that couldn’t be Hubert’s notebook. It was just a coincidence. A cruel joke of circumstances. 

Then, why did his chest feel heavy and light at the same time? Why did he want to cry? A stifled, ugly cry that twisted his graceful face, shattering the safe mask of detachment he had decided to wear long ago to protect himself, to shield his heart from a foretold delusion. 

A loud sob scraped his throat and he froze at once as though shocked by his own reaction, those warm tears that he had been trying to flicker away now streaking his flushed cheeks as he looked down at the page where two familiar eyes were boring into the deepest part of his core. 

He didn’t know how radiant his smile actually was until then, until he saw it on a notebook page. 

Those weren’t just portraits of his figure, his body, his demeanor. The author of those apparently innocent drawings captured the true nature of Ferdinand, like he had read his very soul and brought it to life on paper.

It was like looking in a mirror.

He should have been terrified. He should have been terrified because if Hubert ever found out that Ferdinand learnt about that secret of his, he would have killed him without hesitation. 

But there was a little voice whispering from a distant corner of his mind, a little voice that he had tried to silence again and again for years, a little voice that now was telling him that maybe that was a sign, that maybe all the pining he suffered hadn’t been a waste of time, of energies. 

Maybe he really had a chance with Hubert.

Maybe he could still become his friend, or even more…

He squeezed his eyes, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth gritted loudly, as his body started quivering like a leaf.

The notebook fell from his hands with a thump on the soft cover of his bed.

He was overwhelmed by so many different feelings at the moment, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He was happy but shaken, surprised but petrified. 

His heart sang of joy while his stomach writhed awfully, constricting his insides like a vindictive snake.

Another sob broke the unnatural silence of his room and he hugged himself, thoughts waggling in his head like spinning tops.

He was disoriented in that mess of sensations, a wave of nausea suddenly invaded him.

He needed to get out of there, he needed to breathe some fresh air and forget about that notebook and all its implications for a bit. 

After an amount of time that could have been minutes or hours, he stood up from his bed, ever so slowly. Then, he picked the notebook from where it was still laying open in front of him before quickly stuffing it under his pillow as it burnt against his already overheated skin.

He darted his gaze away from it just to find himself staring at a blank spot on the wall for a while, enough to calm himself down, enough for a smile to find its way to his lips, the corners curling up slightly, a shy yet cheery smile.

_Hubert doesn’t hate me._

That thought only widened that smile, so wide now that it made his cheeks hurt, but he didn’t care. He was feeling stupidly happy, a new warm feeling washing away the aftermath of his previous panic attack.

He heaved a shaky laugh, running an unsteady hand through his unkempt ginger mane. 

Ferdinand wanted to scream, to yell at the top of his lungs, because the longing he had thought unrequited perhaps wasn’t so unrequited after all.

“Fuck…” it wasn’t so honorable of him to curse out loud that way, though he couldn’t help himself. There weren’t proper words to describe the rollercoaster of emotions he was experiencing. 

All because of one person.

All because of that gloomy guy with eyes as bright as jewels and an eerie but tender smile that melted his heart every time it appeared on his sharp features.

The clock that hung next to the door warned him it was dinner time with a loud tick, waking him up from his daydreaming.

Ferdinand had certainly lost track of the hours if it was already that late.

As he stepped outside of his room to go to the Dining Hall, that dumbly joyful smile plastered on his face, he decided that he would have returned the notebook to Hubert like the good nobleman he claimed himself to be.

He would have returned it to its owner eventually.

Just… not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now we know who found the notebook eheheh at first I wasn't sure about Ferdinand finding it because I had another idea in mind, that was Byleth finding the notebook and convincing Edelgard to work with her so they could bring Ferdinand and Hubert together. But then I changed my mind and chose this plot because it suited the situation better (thanks to Hel who helped me in the decision).  
I love these hopeless fools so much 😭
> 
> Tell me in the comments what do you think about the story so far!!


	3. Nobody can make me feel the way you do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the third and last chapter of this fanfiction!! I'm not gonna spoil anything, have a good reading 😏❤️

It had been a week since Hubert lost his notebook.

It had been a week since Hubert could take a proper rest.

The lack of sleep was wearing him out, he felt it deep in his bones, but how could he shut his eyes knowing that someone had his precious collection of… research?

He had been going all around the Garreg Mach asking people, each one of them, from the cook to the gatekeeper, from the groom to the gardener, looking everywhere again and again, although it was all pointless.

The notebook seemed to have disappeared out of nowhere.

He cursed himself for forgetting one of his most valued belongings in such an uncaring way, but soon his rage darted to Professor Byleth since she was the main cause of his current problem. If she hadn't startled him, if she had minded her own business for once, Hubert would have been well rested and his most deprecable secret still saved by now.

Instead of sleeping at night, his body refusing to give up to the fatigue that was slowly accumulating on his tired limbs, he stared at the ceiling of his room as his mind wandered and thoughts rushed uncontrollably, drifting to Professor Byleth’s words every single time, words that still buzzed in his ears like an awful white noise from the deepest corner of his subconscious - or perhaps that sensation was just due to the _fucking lack of sleep_. He didn’t know anymore.

Her firm gaze, her earnest tone, the way she challenged and eventually defeated him with a simple affirmation still burnt his pride. 

It burnt because it was true.

He could deny it how much he wanted, but in the end the young yet keen woman saw through his web of lies and understood it. He knew that Byleth understood that wasn’t just physical attraction what caused him to spy on Ferdinand while he trained, or to cast one of his deadly dark spells whenever an enemy charged the unware fool from the side saving his noble ass, or to promptly turn away to hide a traitorous flush when the young von Aegir smiled that smile of his, a smile that made his eyes gleam so bright Hubert wondered if he was directly staring into the sun, his warm irises shining of the light of the dawn and the soft tip of his nose wrinkling a bit.

What caused him to act like that was a feeling he did not want to acknowledge, not at all. Because acknowledging it meant it was real, and he was honestly scared. 

Emotions were weaknesses he didn’t want to deal with, he couldn’t afford to _have_, not when he was the Emperor’s right hand, not when they made him lose his focus, sometimes even in battle.

Edelgard was his priority, the person he solemnly swore to serve, no matter how many times she told him she wanted him to be happy someday, to find someone to be with. 

He always replied that he was committed to her, to her cause, that he wouldn’t have allowed a trifle like… _love_ to stand between him and the role he had been willing to fulfill in the name of freedom, of righteousness.

But he could perfectly see pity clouding her beautiful lilac eyes and he felt guilty, like a searing knife stabbing his stomach, although he knew he spoke the truth, that he was right. 

Then, why did his guts knot breath after breath? Why did each response feel like thorns grazing his throat?

During those conversations, he usually didn’t dwell too much on the reactions his body so spontaneously conveyed, trying to conceal his uneasiness with a tight expression to not worry Edelgard further. Only when he was protected by the thick walls of his room, he could be honest with himself and let those foolish feelings out, the same foolish feelings that he kept holed up in the darkest corner of his heart, the only proof that he _did_ have a heart after all, in contrast to some rumors going around about him. He let them finally show on his ghastly features that twisted in a horrible scowl, let out the deep sigh he had been holding just to not be disrespectful towards his Emperor, towards his best friend.

He was not made for that kind of absurdities, he told himself. He didn’t like _emotions_, he didn’t like the way they made him feel, he stuffed them away on the off-chance they would have rot at last, being deprived of sustain. And yet, he found himself at their mercy once the door closed behind his back.

For seven nights straight, however, Hubert’s mind couldn’t focus on anything but Professor Byleth’s statement, a ringing bell echoing loudly over the images of Edelgard’s big sad eyes and Ferdinand’s unfairly pretty face that endlessly switched behind his eyelids. Especially the latter, it haunted his sleepless hours more than ever before. The fact that that fool _dared_ to flush deep red during their last private conversation some days ago when he had asked Hubert to write him compliments instead of speaking them out loud if he really felt the need to wasn’t absolutely of any help. 

He had to stifle a frustrated groan into the pillow every time it resurfaced from the most hidden recesses of his memories, hiding himself under the softness of the blankets as if the bed could swallow him up and end his misery once and for all.

He was losing both hope and sanity, and he didn’t know what to do to get out of that horrendous situation he had put himself into with his irresponsible behavior in the first place.

The impeccable tactician Hubert von Vestra beaten by the desires of his own heart.

Oh, the irony. 

One day, or better the eighth day since his notebook went missing, Hubert was heading to the library, eyes straight ahead to avoid unpleasant encounters, when suddenly he heard a familiar voice calling after him.

The odds were testing him, weren’t they now.

Who else could it be if not Ferdinand himself? 

He risked a brief glance at his side and saw the ginger walking towards him, his pace quick, almost worried if Hubert didn’t know better.

“Hubert!” Ferdinand called again as he waved his hand in greeting, his usual bright smile showing on his face. 

The young von Vestra just rolled his eyes, although slowing down to allow the other to reach him.

“Good afternoon, Hubert!” he exclaimed cheerfully stopping in front of him, before putting his hands on his own hips and straightening his back.

That was an attitude that never left him throughout the years and unfortunately Hubert found it endearing. Most of time unnerving, but endearing nevertheless. 

Shortly after he noticed that his fingers were fidgeting, he continuously shifted his weight from one foot to the other and the corners of his lips twitched slightly.

He narrowed his eyes as he took some short seconds to study him. 

“We just had class together, why are you-” he was about to ask as he shook his head, then stopped. “No, nevermind. I don’t care.” he abruptly cut off the conversation with a tired sigh and got past him as he resumed his walking to the library.

He didn’t have the strength, both physical and mental, to suffer his way too enthusiastic nonsense. 

Ferdinand must have been taken aback by that behaviour, because it took him a few moments before jerking into motion to follow him once again.

“Wait, Hubert, I-” he started, desperately trying to get his attention, but Hubert wasn’t hearing any of that, his fingers digging into his temples in soothing circular movements, in an attempt to calm his nerves.

The younger boy was trailing after him like an impatient puppy, each of his steps was a stabbing pain right to his pounding head. 

When he had enough of all that chasing, he came to a sudden halt and Ferdinand stumbled against his back but immediately reared back as Hubert whirled around to glare at him, his black cloak dramatically whipping the air in the process.

His eyes now were two piercing slits, freezing the young von Aegir on the spot.

"What do you want." he demanded in a monotone, his voice laced with chagrin. He could already feel his head throb unmercifully from an oncoming headache that only added to his exhausted state.

Even though annoyed by that walking torment, he had to fight back an amused grin as he witnessed the very moment Ferdinand finally caught on his actual mood.

Despite his lineage, Hubert had never been concerned with looking charming or whatever, a matter dear to most of the nobles’ hearts, but he was very aware he looked even dreadier lately, beyond his standards.

His pale skin looked sick-white and highlighted the purple dark circles around his red-rimmed eyes, a pair of heavy bags hung from them as an addition to his already mess of a face. His hair was disheveled from the uncounted times he gripped it during his night musings, as well as his clothes, full of creases as though he had just wake up from a long sleep when it was very much the opposite. 

Bernadetta almost fainted when she saw him yesterday, thinking he was some sort of ghost that wandered the halls seeking for vengeance.

Not too far from the truth.

The ginger was gaping at him, those golden ambers wide and dumbfounded but filled with the sweetest fear.

And wasn’t he the most irritating, but prettiest boy Hubert knew?

He pinched the bridge of his nose hard as soon as that thought flashed in his mind, an excuse to not look further at the young von Aegir.

“You look-” he started, his breath itching as his voice edged to what Hubert recognized as worry, and that notion made his stomach writhe and stir at the same time. 

Stupid body.

“I haven’t asked your opinion about my person, have I?” he sneered at him before the other guy could finish the sentence, and felt pleased with himself when his mouth snapped shut, his lips trembling with the effort of not talking his thoughts out loud.

They both fell silent afterwards, Hubert still peering at the guy with a sharp gaze as the few gears in Ferdinand’s head clicked together, searching for a way to not upset the tactician more, so loud that he could hear them crack from the strain. Not that he could manage much, but he had to admit he was bold enough for trying at least. 

Ferdinand bit his bottom lip before speaking once again.

“I’ve noticed at lesson that you weren’t- well, that you didn’t-”.

A long, distressed sigh left Hubert’s mouth at his fumbling, and the ginger stopped and cleared his throat.

“I was just concerned about your wellbeing.” he confessed in the end and his cheeks quickly turned the cutest shade of pink.

Suddenly, Hubert’s throat felt dry as an odd warmth spread across his chest, almost sneaking up from his collar, and he needed to fold his arms in hope to ease that unwelcome feeling away.

“So, I was wondering if you would like to... spend some time together.” Ferdinand proposed after a short pause, his cheeks now a brighter pink than mere seconds ago. 

Did that fool really have to flush that way?!

"A coffee with you can't hurt." Hubert mused in a uttered breath as he rested his chin on a fist in a pensive pose, ducking his head a bit forward to try and hide a blush himself. “My afternoon’s been already ruined after all.” he couldn’t help but add soon after, his lips curling up in wicked way.

The beaming smile on Ferdinand’s face immediately twisted into a frown upon hearing the last words, his lips pursing oh so adorably, before scoffing.

“You should have tea instead.” the ginger muttered in suggestion, his shoulders slumping down a bit as he stared at him too intensively for Hubert’s likings.

The latter just shrugged, trying to feign irritation when what he was really trying to do was shake that previous feeling away, with little success no less.

“I’ll decide on the way.” he conceded a moment later, then changed direction and started walking towards the Dinner Hall, without waiting for Ferdinand this time.

Teasing the von Aegir was one of his guilty pleasures. 

As soon as he left the guy standing like an idiot in the middle of the lane, he felt much more himself than before, trapped under that intense gaze.

But the sensation lasted so long because Ferdinand was quick to reach his side.

Hubert knew he would have regretted that decision.

Once sat across each other at one of the tables in the garden next to the Dining Hall, Ferdinand started fiddling with his spoon chewing on his lower lip, something that Hubert did not find distracting _at all_.

If he was so nervous, why invite Hubert to have tea with him in the first place?

And yes, Hubert was having tea, the same blend as Ferdinand, against his initial intention to go for his beloved dark strong coffee as usual. Unfortunately, the younger boy was right in saying that he should have quitted coffee for a bit if he wanted to sleep. 

In all honesty, what would have made him finally take the rest he much needed was finding his notebook.

That trail of thoughts only managed to worsen his precarious mood and a low grunt rumbled at the back of his throat. 

"Why were you… _concerned_ about my wellbeing, anyway?" Hubert broke the unbearable tension between them, his voice skeptical as intolerant eyes wrought with weariness skated up and down the other guy's figure. 

Ferdinand squirmed so deliciously under that scrutiny and Hubert bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a satisfied smirk. 

"Because you wouldn't be so useful in battle if you kept fainting for exhaustion." he huffed, although not meeting his eyes, then finally stopped playing with the spoon. "Don't get your hopes too high, von Vestra." he chuckled under his breath as he stirred the tea with slow movements, his fingers wrapped way too tightly around the metal.

The young tactician wasn't buying that reply, though. There was something in the way Ferdinand was avoiding looking directly at him when barely ten minutes ago he had been the one staring at him like he was under some kind of inquisition, there was something in the way Ferdinand’s leg kept bouncing under the white table, in the way some shy drops of sweat were gathering on his hairline, above his knitted brows and his cupid bow despite the chilly weather. 

That demeanor was extremely suspicious, maddening even, and he thought that Ferdinand’s political career was doomed if he barely could handle a conversation with him in a private environment. 

"Did you truly believe I was going to talk with you about my personal issues?" he asked with a malevolent snigger. "You're so naive." he spat then smiled horribly, before sipping some tea.

Ferdinand's eyes widened in shock as if he just slapped him in the face. 

That image would have been impressed in his mind forever from now on. 

"I-" the ginger breathed out, his face going a little pale, then his tongue clicked loudly. "How can I expect you to believe me when I'm being honest? What a fool I am…" he snapped with spite lacing his voice, his jaw tensing as he stopped swirling his spoon around in his tea altogether to cast an indignant look in Hubert’s direction.

“You are a fool indeed. I’m glad you are finally acknowledging it by yourself.” Hubert chuckled in his creepy way as he put his cup down, before pinning an elbow on the table to rest his chin on his palm.

He showed a leery smile, seeking for one of Ferdinand’s melodramatic reactions he loved so much to elicit. 

Instead, the boy was quiet for a bit, until a strange light Hubert couldn’t decipher flashed across his eyes as his face morphed into a grimace.

“Hubert..” he whispered softly, his lips barely moved around his name, and Hubert’s breath suddenly caught in his throat.

He felt cornered, a dull ache striking his chest, then his stomach. Because the heir of von Aegir was staring at him like Hubert was the only person in the world worth of attention, _his_ attention, those honeyed hues heavy with such intense, unreadable emotions, and Hubert knew that expression. Oh, he knew it too well. It reminded him of a time he wasn’t so keen to remember, it reminded him of a day he tried to push in the back of his mind again and again.

_Hubert was barely twelve back then. His father and Ferdinand's had locked themselves in one of the big rooms in von Aegir's mansion to talk about politics and such, topics that Hubert found amusedly boring but unfortunately he knew that he would have taken the very same reins his father currently pulled someday._

_Destiny and duty._

_He didn't want to come there. Because he knew his father had been playing some fishy games lately, that bastard thought Hubert was too young to understand when that was much likely the opposite. He didn’t want to be part of those machinations, and his old man would have dealt with that truth soon._

_He didn’t want to come there also because he had to stay in the company of von Aegir’s eldest son, Ferdinand. He just met the boy a few months ago but he had already tagged him as infuriatingly talkative and unnerving. _

_His father _forced him _to stay with the lad for the time being, enough to settle… _things _with Ferdinand's, so the two of them had gone in the garden with a butler in tow._

_They had been walking among the flourishing bushes of red and white roses when Ferdinand abruptly stopped, his face lighting up as if he just remembered something quite important, and Hubert stared at him scowling, confused. _

_“You must try riding a horse!” Ferdinand yelled excitedly, pointing with a wave of hand at the stables not far from where they were now._

_“I definitely do not.” the other boy grunted, rolling his eyes._

_“You’re gonna regret it!” the ginger retorted widening his arms in a encouraging way. “It’s so beautiful, liberating!” he was looking at him with wide eyes full of wonder. “C’mon!”._

_Hubert shrugged his shoulders, his mouth twisting ugly. “No. Way. Stop it.” he countered between gritted teeth, then started walking again without a precise destination, a clear sign that Ferdinand should have just dropped the topic already and left him be._

_It wasn’t like Hubert didn’t want to go on a horse. Actually, he’d always loved to, he even dreamed of riding a beautiful black pegasus one day in the future. Of being high in the sky, wind grazing his face as he would have pirouetted among the milky clouds. Of casting spells on enemies from his strong winged stallion. He dreamed of all that even though he fully knew he couldn’t, that _boys_ weren’t allowed to do that. But right now he just didn’t want to give Ferdinand the satisfaction to see him actually riding one. Because he hated Ferdinand and he hated staying there and he hated his father who forced him to be with that brat and-_

_ “Oh Hubert, I’m begging you!” the younger boy insisted, his words a worthless plea that caused him to roll his eyes harder, scoffing loudly._

_Then, Ferdinand did something he wished he didn’t._

_He took one of his hands between his, smaller and calloused, definitely from the training with the lance, as warm amber met bright topaz. _

_Hubert was so startled by that bold gesture that he hadn’t completely processed what happened until he felt a gentle squeeze and reality quickly clicked while goosebumps sprouted out across his arm, in stark contrast with the heat that suddenly bursted in the middle of his chest, making breathing a hard task to accomplish._

_A smile. _

_A beautiful, bright smile graced Ferdinand’s lips. _

_And the young von Vestra felt blind for a moment before the tenderness that smile beamed, before the glee those eyes shone._

_He_ had _to tear his gaze away from the ginger’s puffed, cheerful face and glanced down at his hand, still trapped between Ferdinand’s, his skin felt aflame where the ginger’s fingers laid, so did his cheeks._

_As soon as his brain registered that foreign sensation, Hubert immediately flinched away from that touch, pulling his own hand near his beating chest._

_What was Ferdinand thinking? Who gave him the right to be so friendly with him?_

_Hubert hated him and-_

_“Okay, fine. Just shut up already.” he heard himself saying, his head bent down to shamefully stare at the ground, and within a second a voice in his mind screamed how stupid he was being, reminding him that he shouldn’t have surrendered to that request._

_He couldn’t understand what had tricked him into lifting his gaze then, perhaps the whirring feeling that clenched at his guts, but when he did that same feeling just worsened because Ferdinand’s smile was even wider, now. _

_Even more beautiful._

_What was getting into him?! It must have been some sort of disease, and Ferdinand was the reason behind his uneasiness._

_A disease. It must have been that. _

_Being so lost in his internal conflict, he didn’t hear the brat asking the butler to prepare a horse for Hubert, didn’t remember telling his legs to move, like his body acted out of its own volition._

_He just knew that at some point he had been hoisted by the butler and shortly after felt the leather of a saddle against his thighs, a dark mane waving in front of his dizzy self and an irritated puff coming from the horse he was currently seated on._

_He was on a _horse_. A real horse._

_Before he could express both his distress and happiness about that new experience, the horse moved, spurred by a gentle pull on the reins, and the clatter of hooves against the ground overtook the thumping noise in his ears._

_The horse’s pace gradually quickened, making Hubert hop on the saddle, and he wrapped his fingers around the horn._

_A good ten minutes had passed when the young von Vestra decided he was ready enough to take the lead, now accustomed to the undulating movements, so the butler handed him the reins, smiling kindly at him._

_Hubert couldn’t believe it, but he actually felt _free_ as the horse trotted on the alley, an odd sensation prickled under his fingertips and his chest swelled with joy. _

_Joy._

_He never felt anything like that before._

_The last bit of anxiety left his body as he breathed out deeply, while a relaxed smile found its way on his lips._

_Maybe he had been wrong about Ferdinand. Maybe it’d been a good idea, after all._

_Then, a loud squeal caught his attention._

_Darting his eyes away from the alley ahead, he looked at the source of that noise to find out it was Ferdinand himself._

_The younger boy was literally glowing with excitement, as if he was the one who was riding a horse for the first time, that big smile of his stretching his cheeks so far that Hubert could see, even from that distance, two dimples at the corners of his mouth._

_Hubert didn’t know why, but his heart skipped a beat at that sight, as his grip around the reins slightly loosened._

_Suddenly, the smile on Ferdinand’s face faded into a horrified expression and his brows drew together, not understanding that quick change of emotions._

_“Young master, please, pay attention to-!”._

_The butler’s cry was cut off by his own yelp as he quickly looked back at the alley._

_There was a bush in his way. A huge bush full of... thorns. _

_And it was impossible to avoid it in time._

_His eyes widened as he took the situation in, then pulled at the reins too hard, shaken by the worst of frights._

_The long, strangled neigh of the horse was the last sound Hubert heard before finding himself on the ground, his head pounding from the concussion while his left knee throbbed and burnt._

_He was so stunned by the hit that he didn’t see the butler running to him and kneeling at his side._

_“Hubert, are you okay?!” came the worried voice of Ferdinand from somewhere near him. _

_Even if his vision shook a bit, Hubert looked up and _oh_, there he was, staring at him with glossy eyes._

_If he had had spare energies left, he would have rolled his eyes at that dumb question._

_The butler helped him to stand up and he immediately felt the urge to protest and yell at both of them to go away, but his legs did feel numb and he noticed only in that moment that he got a fine bruise on his palm, too. _

_So, he let himself be carefully walked up to the staircase nearby, where he slowly took seat, before the butler hurriedly went inside the mansion to get a medic kit._

_Ferdinand reached him within a moment, sitting right next to him, and that was really not necessary since Hubert barely suffered his presence when he was in a good mood, let alone now that he was aching because of him and his stupid-_

_“I’m sorry.”._

_Hubert’s face softened just the tiniest bit upon hearing those whispered words, and he turned his head to look at him._

_The ginger was on the verge of bursting into tears, his mouth writhed in a ugly grimace as guilt clouded his face._

_“Ferdinand-” warned Hubert with a tired sigh, he didn’t want to make that stupid accident a bigger deal than it was, mostly because he couldn’t stand baby whinings. Those bruises were just a scruff compared to what he usually got from his training sessions after all, but what followed next shut him up immediately._

_“I swear I won’t hurt you ever again, Hubert.”._

_Honesty filled his voice, a gaze way too intense with blatant worry for a nine years old kid to show, that the young tactician found himself at loss of nasty replies, or replies at all. _

_He blinked once or twice, surprise washed over him like a sudden wave. He honestly didn’t know how to react to that, to that promise that held much more relevance than Ferdinand let shine through. _

_In that moment, Hubert knew he would have remembered that look for years to come._

“Hubert-?”

The urgency in Ferdinand’s tone was what pulled him back from that vivid memory.

Those starry pools were still on him, boring into his very core, and he had to fight back a blush, had to duck his head to the side, not wanting Ferdinand to see how much that contemplation actually affected him. 

Despite the turn of events the past week had unfolded upon him, he still had some dignity to preserve.

“I thought I’ve lost you for a moment there.” he heard the ginger sigh in relief, then a wary chuckle slipped through his lips.

How long had Ferdinand been calling after him? It wasn’t like him to zoom out in the middle of a conversation, but he’d just done that, hadn’t he?

Feeling too exposed for his own taste, Hubert cleared his throat, trying to get a grip on his own body and its unusual conduct, before taking a sip of tea to relieve the dryness of his mouth.

“I-” he started after a few seconds, then grumbled under his breath. 

Did he _really_ want to talk about something as private as his current problem was? With Ferdinand among all people, no less. The younger guy and he were barely companions, certainly not friends at all. They had made progress about their relationship along the way, that was true, but it could hardly be seen as a friendship. More likely a mutual tolerance. 

Then, why didn’t he tell Edelgard about what had happened? She was his friend, one of the fewest, since the people he trusted with his friendship could be counted on the fingers of a hand.

He knew the answer to that question, but deliberately ignored it.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard and long enough to recollect his thoughts, before finally giving in, before dropping his cool exterior for a while.

“One week ago I lost my notebook. I’m very attached to it, I’ve had it for years, now.” he explained, feeling his throat already closing up around the words, yet willed himself to speak further nonetheless. “There are… things in it that I don’t want people to see. Because it’s- complicated.” he swallowed at the end, deciding that was the safest way to describe it.

As soon as he stopped talking, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest and that was surely a good sensation after days of silent pain and struggle. 

He didn’t know what caused him to open up with the ginger. Be it the previous memory that his mind unsolicitedly replayed out before his eyes, be it the mix of emotions that swirled in Ferdinand’s warm hues, Hubert couldn’t tell.

What he knew was that he just voiced his problems and the world magically didn’t end. 

Or maybe he was being too optimist for once.

In fact, while he was speaking, Hubert didn’t fail to notice that Ferdinand imperceptibly fidgeted on his seat, like there was a mysterious force gnawing him from the inside, like he knew something Hubert was entirely missing.

He was too used to following the younger von Aegir’s movements to not catch that detail.

“Ferdinand.”. 

A startled yelp. 

“Y-yes?”.

“Are you listening to me?” Hubert arched a shaved brow, drumming his trimmed nails rhythmically on the marble surface. 

That behaviour of his was really getting on the tactician’s nerves.

Ferdinand gulped guiltily, the briefest sign of panic raced across his face before shaping into a casual smile within a split second. 

“Sure!” he replied not suspiciously at all, his voice half an octave higher than usual, “Why?” that very smile faltering a bit under the pressure of Hubert’s gaze on him.

The latter narrowed his eyes, two bright pins that glinted of a malicious spark. He much resembled a reptile in front of its prey, ready to strike at any moment.

“I just told you what caused me to feel as a walking wreck, and you have nothing to say on the matter, when it was you who wanted so desperately to know?” he asked in a monotone, then ran his tongue over his teeth, as he levelled him from head to toe with a thoughtful look.

He saw Ferdinand’s body still while his mouth opened more than once, although nothing coherent came out of it, just incomprehensible, useless noises.

As a grin threatened to split his face in half, Hubert squinted his eyes more while carefully moving his teacup to the side.

“That’s very rude of you.” he teased then, standing up to peer down at Ferdinand. He planted both his palms on the table before leaning forward.

The more he invaded Ferdinand’s personal space, the more the ginger shrunk in the chair, looking like he wanted to bolt out of there and ran as far as possible, but a greatest sentiment than his own self-preservation, fear mayhaps, rooted him to the spot.

Hubert had the upper hand in that sadistic game of his and would have taken advantage of the situation to play with the younger boy just because he could.

“And atypical, too, for someone who likes to hear their own voice as much as you do.” he emphasized the hidden accusation with an irritated roll of eyes. 

“Am I wrong, Ferdinand von Aeg-”.

"I have your notebook, alright?!" the words toppled out of Ferdinand’s lips so suddenly that Hubert thought he misheard at first, leaving him speechless for a moment as his jaw slacked open and his arms threatened to give in.

Then, his mind wrapped around that confession.

Silence drew out between them.

A long, dreadful silence.

“I beg your pardon?” Hubert asked slowly through ground teeth at some point, when he felt like the anger pooled in his stomach was getting too much to handle, punctuating each word with a squeeze of fists.

The ginger’s eyes were wide and round, staring at him with something akin to the purest regret. 

“I meant to- to return it but-”. 

“What were you waiting for, exactly?!” the imperial tactician knew he was raising his voice, drawing undesired attention on them and their conversation in the process, but he couldn’t help himself right now. He felt like he had been played in his own mind game. By Ferdinand. 

His pride couldn’t possibly allow it.

Ferdinand visibly flinched. “I’m sorry!” he uttered then in a pleading tone. 

“You lying wretch-!“ Hubert accused at the same time.

“I just thought that... “ the ginger let the sentence hang in the air between them, heavy with growing tension, as his cheeks flushed deep.

Hubert was gripping his teaspoon so hard his knuckles turned white. He didn’t recall the moment he picked it up again, his mind gone blank with rage, although now that he acknowledged that fact, he was very tempted to use it to gouge Ferdinand’s eyes out.

That was just his luck that Hubert loved his eyes too much to actually do so.

“Did you open it?” he snarled instead, his neck going tense as well as his shoulders, his voice hoarse from poorly suppressed anger. 

Only a couple of inches separated their faces from each other. Hubert was pinning down the younger boy just with a look, his body was trembling under the strain to not reach out and strangle Ferdinand with his bare hands, while the latter was holding on the edges of the chair, his face looked like it couldn’t decide which color to show right now, opting for a feverish pink, as his throat worked around a knot that didn’t let him speak.

Hubert wasn’t the kind of guy who put up a fight that easily, at least not a physical one where fists and kicks were involved, but the ginger had the power to unleash the wildest side of himself, to rouse feelings he wanted to keep locked, and since coping with emotions that differed from revenge and resentment wasn't one of his strongest attributes after all, he decided to play safe, getting defensive, even though he felt like Ferdinand was the one winning this time around.

But it was the next moment that officially declared his defeat.

“...yes.” Ferdinand whispered softly, and now his whole face matched his burning hot cheeks, a complexion that made his eyes look like two falling stars.

Of all the outcomes for that conversation that Hubert had predicted, that surely wasn’t one of them.

His body froze all at once, blood running cold in his veins, as breath caught in his lungs.

He asked the beating muscle stuck in the middle of his chest why among all people it could pine for it choose Ferdinand, he asked it over and over again. Because Hubert never felt ashamed of being attracted by all genders, he was certainly not the kind of guy who showed openly his preferences, that was a fair point, but both his sexuality and romantic interests had never been a problem for him, even though both kind of attractions were something that he had actually felt just a few times throughout his life and not even on a deep level. The real problem, and a true exception, was having a crush on the young von Aegir, a crush that probably had begun that very day at Ferdinand's mansion, when the horse accident happened, and slowly developed over the years. 

Although Hubert found him miserable and insufferable, the more Ferdinand acted that way the faster his heart drummed in its constricting cage and he couldn't understand why at first. Then he had replied to that simple question that had been swimming uncomfortably in his mind with a scientific explanation. Endorphins. He had been literally a kid when that feeling had firstly sprouted up within his heart, but, by the time he turned into a teenager through and through, that feeling only increased. He had told himself that it was normal to feel attracted to people, to a guy that he considered sure annoying with that chattering mouth of his, but pretty nonetheless. He had hidden behind surly glances and vicious remarks, hoping that temporary… _infatuation_ would have gone away sooner or later.

It turned out that wasn't the case.

To protect himself from embarrassment, he had started to avoid the guy completely since the first day of the Academy, except for the few occasions that had been strictly necessary. Or when Professor Byleth had wanted to test his patience, forcing him to work with Ferdinand on week projects and to have dinner with her and that human bane.

In the meantime, as the five years passed, those few occasions became more and more frequent, and that had been enough to fuel that feeling.

The physical attraction had showed up much later as the younger boy got sturdier and his hair longer with each passing season and Hubert didn't know how to deal with that new kind of frustration. Maybe that was the reason why his drawings of Ferdinand, from simple portraits, had turned into actual full body sketches with time, a fair part of them framing Ferdinand while he trained in the courtyard, for it was one of his favorite locations to draw him into.

Hubert realized as an afterthought that Ferdinand was still talking, or more likely babbling. 

"-I acted selfishly, I’m fully aware of that, alright? But, Hubert, I-" he was mumbling out with terror shaking his poor justification, "I wanted to bask a little longer in the idea that you didn’t find me as despicable as you always professed to. For all this time I thought you hated me, you can’t even imagine how much I suffered whenever you treated me like I was just a bother to you, and then..” a short, wet intake of breath, “Those drawings made me feel… happy, like never before.” there was a brief pause, then his tone dropped to a smooth whisper, “Because I like you, Hubert, I've liked you for so many years-" his peachy lips were trembling, “I like you so much I think my heart could burst from the force of the feelings it bears for you, and probably you don’t reciprocate the sentiment, it’s okay, but please allow me to at least be a friend to you.” those beautiful eyes were staring at Hubert so openly, glistening of scattered tears he barely withheld by now. 

Hubert’s heart took a handful of leaps in his chest while his mind completely blacked out at that declaration. 

"You... What?" he asked eloquently, his mouth moving on its own volition completely disconnected from the rational part of his brain, as he almost tumbled on the table, all the energies in his body momentarily leaving him. 

"I-I like you, Hubert." Ferdinand repeated, his face incredibly red now, and Hubert could spot some new freckles gracing his features, a detail that he had missed during his cautious observation. “I’ve never wanted to be your enemy, I wanted to be by your side as a friend, as a… lover.” Ferdinand broke the eye contact for the briefest moment to look longingly at Hubert’s lips before resuming his speech. “Sometimes it’s been so hard to resist the temptation, but your nasty manners towards me helped to temper my instincts. Now, however…” the sentence hung in the little space between them, filled with intentions.

The young tactician felt his face ablaze, for shame or joy or another emotion he hardly showed, he couldn't tell, his mouth hung open at a complete loss for words.

When he thought the fool had finished with tormenting his heart, Ferdinand spoke once more.

“I’m… confused, to say the least. Since I’ve found your notebook, my mind is full of misgivings because of the history between us, and I wish I could listen to it, I really do, but I just keep thinking about you, more than I did before this discovery.” his fingers were twitching again, like he wanted to grab anything but the chair at the moment. “I could treat you and cherish you the way you deserve.” his body was still taut, conscious of the looming threat above him, yet a soft smile tugged across his face while those honeyed pools just looked at him so intensely Hubert could barely handle it. 

“And I’m sorry if I hurt you, I didn’t want to reduce you in this state of yours.” that smile warped into a grimace, his brows knitted together. “I failed my promise and I can’t forgive me.” guilt caused him to lower his gaze for a moment. “But I hope I can have your friendship at most, even after this accident.” Hubert could tell by his tone that he was being honest, and now he was the one feeling guilty, a sensation so foreign to the imperial tactician.

Ferdinand had always been honest with him, he knew that. 

Another painful silence weighed in the air. 

His feelings for the guy before him were his worst enemy, weren’t they. Always been. A person like himself, a person who held his head high on his righteousness, a person who feared nothing because aware of his capabilities, had fallen under the cowardice of his own heart. He had been so afraid of those emotions to the point of raising a wall between himself and Ferdinand, impossible to climb. Or at least that what was he thought, that he was safe behind the lies he told. Instead, that confession had been enough to tumble it down, brick by brick, striking its foundations with each word he had said. 

Finding out that Ferdinand liked him back suddenly changed everything, suddenly all those lies weighted nothing, suddenly that worthless longing had a purpose.

Ferdinand also mentioned the promise he had made so many years ago, and that reminder had drained the last sliver of opposition from his body.

That beautiful tinge of pink was a permanent adornment on the ginger’s cheeks by now, and made Hubert's heart buzz so loudly in his head.

"Please don't kill me-" Ferdinand's voice barely a noise in his ears as Hubert abruptly circled the table. He saw the younger boy shrinking in his seat as much as he could, but Hubert grabbed him by an arm anyway, flinging the table and all the objects over it on the ground.

Ferdinand _shrieked_, but that was his only protest about being manhandled, maybe too stunned by the sudden shift of positions to react in time.

Hubert crowded him out against the wall nearby, looking at him straight in his astonished eyes, before gingerly bringing both his hands up to frame Ferdinand's face.

"Hubert, forgive me-!" the plea died in his throat because Hubert's lips met his.

A soft, tentative touch, much in contrast with the force his taller figure was wielding on the young von Aegir’s.

It took some long moments for Ferdinand to understand, to respond, to kiss him back, as if he couldn't believe it was actually happening, neither did Hubert for the matter.

Hubert would have thought it was a dream, but the sweetness of Ferdinand’s lips dancing against his, the warmth radiating from his body, the faint fluttering of eyelashes, his quickening breath caressing the tactician’s face, all was too loud, too tangible, too good to be just figments of his subconscious. 

Heat exploded in the middle of his chest and rapidly rushed everywhere, to each periphery of his limbs, running up and down his spine like an electrifying jolt, coiling at the pit of his stomach. He couldn't stop a blush from blossoming across his sharp cheeks as an eager yearning overwhelmed his shy inexperience.

Pouring into the kiss everything he couldn't force himself to say right now, he savoured Ferdinand’s lips like a famished man savoured the most delicious of fruits, the sensation of skin brushing fervently against skin intoxicating, his heart was quivering from the intensity of the moment.

They were out in the open, desperately kissing each other, and Hubert realized he didn't care. He couldn’t care less, because he had finally fulfilled a desire he’d denied himself of for far too long, he had finally put an end to a craving that was getting arduous to ignore.

Although legitimate, his obsession for Edelgard’s safety had blinded him all this time, didn’t it? Causing him to think Ferdinand had been friendly with both of them just for selfish reasons. How could he have mistaken the honesty in Ferdinand's eyes for covetousness? His mind had been poisoned by his cynical view of the world, of people, his mind had been so clouded by his own mischievous thoughts up to being not capable of discerning honest intentions from a sea of falsity that surrounded him every day due to his role. 

Who was the fool, now? 

He would have made up for it, he promised himself, he would have made up for all the times he intentionally hurt Ferdinand more than he believed to, more than the ginger actually deserved. Hubert owed him that much. 

He wasn’t a man of hope, hope never took him anywhere, he could only put his trust in his abilities. But now he felt in his heart that everything would have been alright, if not his heart he trusted the look on Ferdinand’s face, one that spoke more than thousand promises could.

Words could never have healed what he had done to Ferdinand and, even though Ferdinand had declared his feelings for him, Hubert knew he would have fought tooth and nail for his true forgiveness, for it to be the tactician’s new objective. 

He didn’t like emotions, he didn’t like feeling weak because of them, but he would have tried, for Ferdinand. 

He wanted to.

They kissed until their lungs allowed, they kissed until their heads hummed from dizziness. 

Their mouths torn apart and gasping for air, Hubert managed to find enough breath and courage to whisper “I like you, too, Ferdinand.”, out loud, just to clarify the concept in the sudden fear that the kiss they just shared hadn’t been sufficient. 

Ferdinand was staring at him gaping, long pale eyelashes fanning out across his flushed cheeks that looked like ripe pommes, hooded eyes full of desire and glee. That proximity gave Hubert the chance to see all the constellations of freckles that studded the entirety of his face, even his lips, and he wondered how many others he had missed during his careful watching, he wondered how many others his clothes hid, he thought about kissing every each of them in adoration.

But that reverie lasted only so long because Ferdinand was leaning in again, claiming his mouth with much more passion than before, kissing and nipping and licking, his tongue finding its way between Hubert’s lips that opened wider under that much welcomed intrusion.

As the kiss grew erratic, clumsy even, tongues wetly wagging around each other, teeth clashing, Hubert felt the sudden need to steady himself against the wall, propping a hand on the cold surface next to the ginger’s head.

For his part, Ferdinand took the chance to tilt it to the side, changing angle, deepening the contact with much amusement on the tactician’s behalf. Hubert never had been kissed that way before. Actually, he had never been kissed. He was experiencing more than one first time that day, and he couldn’t complain about a single aspect of it. Not when Ferdinand sucked his lower lip between his so greedily, not when Ferdinand pulled him closer by the lapels of his cloak, as if he was afraid Hubert could vanish at any moment.

Hubert moaned loudly under that treatment, a noise that the young von Aegir keenly swallowed, his calloused fingers now caressing his heated face, his right cheek, his jawline, the touch so delicate yet persistent, the unabashed veneration behind it too much for Hubert to handle.

So lost in the kiss, he didn’t notice that his free hand moved to reach Ferdinand’s hair, as if it acted on its own volition, his subconscious dictating its course, and as soon as his fingers grasped some locks of that gorgeous mane, those waves of the colors of an autumnal forest feeling as silky as they looked, its perfume inebriating all his senses, a needy whimper echoed in Hubert’s mouth as Ferdinand mapped it with his tongue, lavish and hungry.

The tactician was at Ferdinand’s complete mercy, he was letting him do whatever he wanted, both too unprepared and bewildered to take the lead. Actually, he felt a strange satisfaction in submitting to Ferdinand's will.

A kiss, a nip, a leap of tongue, a bite, and another kiss. Over and over. Stifled moans and low groans filled the air, their bodies growing hotter and hotter every passing second, melting against one another. And Hubert felt like suffocating, his whole face on fire, overwhelmed by the affection the younger boy was showing him.

Those were just kisses, a mere physical connection of skin and warmth and chills, still what the two were sharing right now felt so intimate that Hubert had the sensation he was baring himself to Ferdinand, heart and soul, giving him everything he had to offer, willingly and without any restraint. 

If he had to decide between his pride and his happiness, if he had to be honest with himself for once, he would rather spend the rest of his life with the boy he was holding in his arms than alone and miserable with regrets haunting him every waking and sleeping hour. Finally, he was brave enough to admit that.

Edelgard always wished him to find love someday, and maybe he was on the right path at last.

Those very thoughts clutched his throbbing chest, seizing his breath, his hand in Ferdinand’s hair gripped tighter, earning a sob from the younger boy, and soon enough the situation escalated into a mess of urgent, sloppy kisses, hands restlessly roaming on anything but what they really coveted to touch, sighs and whimpers of pleasure leaving their reddened and glistening lips, but it was the moment Hubert felt a leg swiftly slipping between his that affirmed they got carried away by the sudden lust, their effusions too heated to be showed in public so shamelessly.

With no little problem, the tactician forced himself to remember what initially they were doing out there, to remember the conversation that caused them to end up in that embrace of limbs and hearts in the first place.

By the time his brain decided to collaborate again with his mouth, he reluctantly reared back enough to look Ferdinand in the eyes and cleared his throat, and suppressed a frustrated groan watching how Ferdinand was chasing his lips, but that abrupt break of contact unbalanced him for just a moment, his eyes round and wide now blinking owlishly at Hubert, then the flush that colored his face of a beautiful scarlet only deepened, running down his neck now, as though he realized their unforgivable conduct, eliciting an inelegant snort from Hubert that soon turned into a delightful snigger. Ferdinand quickly joined him as he snaked his hands around Hubert’s neck, a gesture that washed away that previous embarrassment.

Minutes or hours or seconds passed by, the two of them standing tall, Hubert’s arms wrapped loosely around the ginger’s waist while the latter stroked the back of the young von Vestra’s head, playing with some dark locks between his fingers.

Ferdinand wore an easy expression, one corner of his lips curled up as he attentively watched Hubert, and Hubert found out that he didn’t mind the staring, not if it came from the ginger.

That fond smile was a balm for his resentful soul, a smile reserved for him and him only, he knew that, because he couldn’t recall Ferdinand’s face going so soft and relaxed in any other situation, and his heart flipped in his chest at that notion.

"So..” the young von Vestra started after a while, his fingers slowly rubbing Ferdinand’s lower back, his voice still hoarse from all the kissing. “Are you gonna give it to me or not?" he asked, his tone playful.

He felt way lighter now, he didn’t need to carry an oppressing burden within his chest anymore, he could let himself enjoy Ferdinand’s presence without shame, without condemning himself for his feelings. But he couldn’t resist the temptation of teasing the younger boy.

"W-what?!" came the strangled reply from Ferdinand who comically widened his eyes as his face heated up in a second upon hearing that ambiguous question.

A chuckle shook Hubert’s body at that adorable reaction. "My notebook." he clarified in a way more tender tone, and he surprised himself with the sudden change of demeanor towards Ferdinand, it felt so natural it should have scared him. Yet, it didn’t.

"Oh, right. Yes." a shaky, embarrassed laughter, "It's in my… room." the ginger mumbled the last word, lowering his gaze to stare at a very interesting spot on ground, and Hubert just rolled his eyes.

"Really?" the latter exclaimed, feigning surprise, the smile that now curved his lips would have given him away if only Ferdinand had looked back at him. "How convenient, I dare to say." that smile turned into a mischievous grin and Hubert huffed amusedly as soon as he watched Ferdinand flush incredibly bright. 

"It's not-" Ferdinand struggled to find words, indignant by the accusation Hubert left hanging in the air. “It wasn’t my intention-” his eyes lifted from the ground to Hubert’s face once again as his tongue stuck in his throat for a moment, "I'm gonna get it!" he decided in the end, turning tail.

Hubert shook his head and _giggled_, watching the younger boy panicking over absolutely nothing.

But before Ferdinand could leave, he gently grabbed his upper arm and stopped him.

“We could.. you know-” he gestured awkwardly between them as Ferdinand’s jaw slacked open, “Go together.” he finished his intention showing a small smile.

The ginger took a long intake before nodding vehemently at the suggestion. 

Hubert ran his fingers down to twine their hands together, noticing in that moment how they fit perfectly against each other like two halves of the same whole. 

Swallowing down the lump that thought formed in his throat, he moved closer to Ferdinand to leave a peck on the top of his head, then spurred him with a tug on their united hands.

He saw Ferdinand bite his lower lip as his eyes gleamed, before squeezing Hubert’s hand. 

They finally started walking, side by side, both of them blushing like young teens. As their steps echoed in the alley, Ferdinand lamented about how they just wasted some fine tea and Hubert promised to offer him as much as he wanted in the future. 

The young von Vestra felt Ferdinand’s thumb brushing so delicately against the back of his hand, and his heart stuttered in his chest. 

Hubert may have to thank Professor Byleth, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand that's it!!!! They've finally kissed!!!! Idiots will be idiots!!!!!!!  
I'm very proud of what I've written and it's very strange of me askjdksd I just hope you people had fun while reading the whole fic, and please PLEASE let me know if you liked it!!  
I still don't know if I'll write about them again, I might but I'm still not so sure, first I need to finish the game...... yea, I'm slow AHAHAHAH I know that their A+ conversation is a little awkward, but I think that the scenes I've written flow well with the canon. 
> 
> If you want to have a talk, send me your opinion about the fic or even your fanarts of it, just hit the chat or the ask button on Tumblr ;)))

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated.  
Find me as [theoldgaylion](http://theoldgaylion.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


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